All These Conversations End the Same
by AnxietyGrrl
Summary: Ray and Neela get distracted. A couple of light one-shots, just for fun. Post-series; angst-free.
1. But Can You Dance To It?

**Title: "All These Conversations End the Same"  
Author:** AnxietyGrrl  
**Summary: **Ray and Neela get distracted. (Post-series.) **  
Notes: **I apologize that this isn't an actual _story_, but I'm trying to shake the rust off my writing gears, so I thought I'd share. Each chapter is a standalone scene, linked by a loose theme (talkin' and makin' out, basically).

* * *

**"But Can You Dance To It?"**

* * *

She handed him the guitar and said, "Play me something."

"Oh, come on..."

"Go on! What, are you shy?"

"You don't want to hear-"

"Yes I do. Play me something."

She planted herself on a chair and crossed her arms.

He rolled his eyes. "Fine. What do you want to hear?"

"I think you know."

"Ohhh, come on, I can't-"

"You _are_ shy! Here's a turn of events. I'm practically naked, and you're shy."

"I'm not-I don't remember all the chords, okay?"

"I don't believe you."

"I don't believe you. Who _are_ you?" he laughed.

"I'm your _muse_. Now don't be so bloody stubborn, and play my song."

"You want a happy one, a sad one, or an angry, bitter one?"

She frowned. "There's an angry one?"

"There are, like, five angry ones. Things were pretty rough for a while."

"I don't think I want to hear those."

"Yeah, me neither. I mean, I don't want you to. They all suck, anyway."

She watched him in silence for a while as he fiddled with the tuning. "Play the sad one," she said finally.

It was short, probably unfinished, two verses and a chorus. She had to lean forward to hear the words. He didn't once look at her as he played, and he did trip over a chord or two.

When he was finished, she got up slowly, said, "Well," and went to sit on the arm of his chair.

He set aside the guitar and looked up at her. "Well?"

She stroked her fingers over the back of his neck and leaned down for a long, soft kiss. "That..." she said, with a playful bump of her nose against his cheek, "was pretty bad, actually."

He overplayed indignation with a grimace and a very non-threatening sort of growl, and dragged her onto his lap. "Oh yeah?"

"Afraid so."

"Whose fault is that, _muse_?"

"I'm sorry," she said through laughter as he nipped at her throat and collarbone. "But as a songwriter you make an excellent physician."

"See if I ever let you request anything again."

She shook her head to protest. "Oh, no. I'm only kidding, really. Just not that one."

"That bad, huh? Guess it's not going on the album," he joked.

"Bin it," she agreed, "definitely."

"So, Dr. Pitchfork, did you hate the music or the lyrics or...?"

"It just..." She stilled, and when she looked him in the eyes her expression sobered. "I didn't like it. It didn't sound natural. I think..." she said softly, "Because you weren't meant to be so sad."

His hands were under her robe now, holding her in place, and as she kissed him again, with more intensity this time, the pressure of his touch increased. "Maybe you can write a new song, now," she suggested. "A happier one."

"Maybe..." he said, his lips just brushing hers. He left the thought unfinished as the robe fell off her shoulders. "Maybe later..."


	2. Baby, Let's Fly

******Title: "All These Conversations End the Same"  
Author:** AnxietyGrrl**  
****Summary:** Ray and Neela get distracted. (Post-series.) ******  
Notes:** I apologize that this isn't an actual _story_, but I'm trying to shake the rust off my writing gears, so I thought I'd share. Each chapter is a standalone scene, linked by a loose theme (talkin' and makin' out, basically).**  
**

* * *

**"Baby, Let's Fly (Using Our Miles, Subject To Restricted Dates and Conditions)"**

* * *

"The beach isn't really as fun for me as it used to be."

"Right, sorry." She flicked at the touchscreen, a little wrinkle of concentration appearing above her nose. "What about the mountains, then? The Rockies are supposed to be gorgeous. I've never been, have you?"

"What, like skiing?"

"Yeah, like skiing. I haven't been since university. I doubt our insurance covers extreme sports prostheses, but don't tell me you wouldn't want to try it."

"Do you remember back in, like...2005, I think? The guys and I went snowboarding up in Wausau."

"Vaguely."

"I almost asked you to come."

"You're kidding. I would have said no."

"I know. That's why 'almost.'"

"All right, so that's a possible." She tapped at the screen again. "Aspen?"

"Aspen's full of rich dicks. Boulder's supposed to be cool."

She frowned. "Yeah, cool. As long as we both get pertussis boosters first."

"If you ended up yelling at some anti-vax nutjob on the street that would be like the best part of the trip. Hey, why don't you check the NIH website and find out where we can go that'll require the most injections, that'll be fun." He leaned over to look at the iPad. "Okay, if you're going to add disease clusters to your vacation search criteria this whole process is going to take a lot longer."

"We _could_..."

"What?"

"We could go to London."

"Cool, let's go to London. I'm ready. Let's do it."

"But we might be expected to actually stay in Southall, and that is _not_ happening. I suppose we could stop over for a few days and then go on to Paris..."

"Awesome. That is a plan. I love when you speak French. Book it."

"But then we do only have a week, maybe we'd be better off sticking closer to home..."

He dropped his head back onto the couch and rolled his neck in her direction. When she started tapping away again he reached over and grabbed the iPad out of her hands.

"Excuse me! Ray!"

He held it over his head, and she kneeled unsteadily on the cushion and stretched up both arms to snatch it back. He tugged on the hem of her nightshirt and gravity brought her down on top of him with her prize, a corner of which landed hard onto his thigh. "_Fuck_."

She sat back as he winced, her eyes full of concern. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah." He rubbed at the spot. "I've had worse bruises."

When she saw he was fine, she said, "I was talking to my iPad, actually."

"I'll throw it across the room, I swear to god, Neela."

"Oh, fine." She laid it gently onto the coffee table, out of his reach.

"Why are you so stressed out about this, anyway? It's a vacation. It's supposed to be relaxing. That's the whole point."

"Well I haven't been on holiday in a really long time, and this is our first one together, and I want it to be-"

"Perfect, and if you can't plan it exactly right, then maybe we shouldn't go at all, and you can have this hypothetical perfect vacation in your head and not have to deal with a potentially unsatisfying real world vacation, all without ever having to spend a week away from work."

"Nice. I want it to be nice. I don't know _what_ you're on about."

"Neela, we could do six nights at the Doubletree in Lake Charles, I don't care. It'd be nice just to spend the time with you. You know what I realized? I've never known you when you weren't working. I'm not even sure you _can_ go a full week without working."

"Of course I can."

"It'll be like an experiment. Maybe I'll write it up."

"Honestly, I don't even know if I want to go away with you anymore..."

"Do you even know _how_ to relax?"

"You've seen me relaxed!"

"When?"

"All the time! Constantly!"

"Okay, prove it. Remind me what that looks like. You, relaxed."

"Fine. I'll take that challenge." She laid across the sofa on her back, extended her legs and rested her crossed ankles on his knee. A smile pulled at the corners of her mouth, and she clasped her hands genteelly over her ribcage. "See? Get ready for seven solid days of this action."

He laughed, slid one hand under her bare calves to gently lift her legs while he shifted his weight slightly. She uncrossed her ankles and he leaned forward until his hands were behind her knees. "I don't know, I think you could do better."

"Really? Perhaps you ought to look closer."

"Perhaps." She laughed as she started sliding forward, his hands traveling up her legs and her elbows pushing her along. Her nightshirt bunched up under her breasts.

"Hm, I am a little more relaxed now..."

"Yeah, it looks that way."

"Except that my pants are twisted up in some inconvenient places."

"Don't worry about that, it's a temporary issue."

She braced her left foot against the back of the couch, and her right against his biceps. Her toes curled around his sleeve as he kissed the inside of her knee.

"You know, you're right, it's coming back to me now. I've definitely seen you relaxed like this before."

"Told you so." The last syllable became a stuttered exhalation as she lifted her hips for his hands. A minute later her underwear was on the table next to the iPad.

She scrunched her fingers in his short hair as he leaned down, and, just for a split second, wondered about the rates for the Doubletree in Lake Charles.


End file.
